Category Archives: love

Some folk like to get all tangled up in semantics. Sometimes I am one of them.

But when it comes to Do-Overs I pretty much believe Life is full of Do-Overs and a second chance is a D-Over.

If it were not then how could we ever progress?

What do New Year’s Eve, Birthdays, September, and the first day of each new season have in common?

It is all about being able to re-do.

Popular saying: There are no-do overs in Life but there are second chances.

As you know I believe Re-do and Second Chances are exactly the same thing.

A baby learning to walk takes missteps. Do we tell that baby ‘No re-dos.’ Of course not. At some point there is a redo. Every great inventor had re-dos, sometimes a thousand times or more until they got it right.

Perfection is never achieved but we can and will re-do. And so it will be for ever. Humans are not the only creatures to re-do. Technically every living organism does a re-do, even at a cellular level and that is how mutations develop. Intrinsic changes that help us adapt to our environment. To survive.

And that is what happens on our journey. We re-do.

As a wanna be golfer I think Life is Like a Game of Golf.

Sometimes you play along and get to the 18th hole and shake your head wondering what went wrong.

Sometimes you play along and get to the 18th hole and shake your head wondering what went right.

But all it takes is one good stroke to keep you coming back. That one good step for the baby keeps it trying.

Trying to do that again and figuring next time you will remember what and how you did it.

Fact is, sometimes you just do it. If you are dieting you can follow all the rules; journal, measure, and weigh, plan, and somehow still come up short. Although consistent effort will tell in the long run. Sometimes you skim by, barely following rules, and are rewarded. Go figure.

Until death, we all get to Re-do somehow. It doesn’t take a New Year, new season, new month or even a new day. ARe-do, re-commitment, can take place in a new second or minute.

In a second you can decide to re-do your diet, your work, your commitment to your relationship, to yourself.

The ability to RE-DO is Hope. And hope is what Life is about. Hope is believing there is something better. And I think ‘better’ can only be done by re-doing, Learning, improving.

Like this:

“You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming?” –Peter Pan.

Now for Tinkerbell, that line and the one that followed, dealt with eternal love and waiting. But the line resonates with me because I find that exact place to be filled with a diamond mind of creative thoughts. If you lie very very still, not even opening your eyes or stirring a muscle, and just be aware you find yourself in a true wonderland of thought, experience, memory, and joy. Until of course the need for morning ablutions inserts itself and poof! Gone. And you can’t get it back by napping later. I’ve tried. It seems it only happens with any depth after a full night’s sleep.

So what does this have to do with buying anything and being aware you ask? Of course you ask. It is perfectly logical to do so.

Well this morning one of my gently floating thoughts was about on-line dating. I know, I know, – what does on-line dating have to do with buying or being aware?

Everything to do with social media in this day and age is all about buying. It’s no longer a case of walking to the store, choosing a product, paying money and thereby buying something.

In the old days, and I mean long, long, absolute decades before my time, but since the beginning of time, the world has had its dose of shysters; those who sold goods or tales to reap profits but were disreputable, unethical, unscrupulous, thieves of hearts and money, users of the frail. Back then, if you lived in a one horse town you may never have come across a true scoundrel, unless it was the fellow making the rounds selling coca cola, or snake oil for medicinal purposes. Most folk probably lived scoundrel free unless they set out for the big city to make a new life.

I had my time of on-line dating and met some nice fellas. I have a ridiculous sense of humor so it was amusing to me when I met a scoundrel and there were quite a few.

Well, social media has given birth not only to instant information but to the proliferation of scoundrels, otherwise known as snakes, dogs, (no insult to canines intended), scum etc etc. You get the idea.

Every day there are reports about people being taken. The primary targets are women who are alone, lonely (of any age), seniors (the true innocents of the information age), and any target of any age or gender. Therefore, EVERYONE. (don’t even get me started on sexual predators! AKA Beasts of Satan)

Remember when PHISHING became big news? It may not be front page news anymore because it is so common place.

So I decided to make a list of On-line dating scams we have all heard about but are not necessarily AWARE of. The word ‘aware’ is such an important one.

Scammers or more accurately SCUMmers know how to play the heart strings of even the most level headed business people. (and yes it happens to men too.) Catfishing is a term you will want to look up and get real familiar with.

BEWARE

The profile on the dating site is false. In my own experience the picture is of someone who is just too good looking. You know the picture in the wallet that you buy in Walmart good looking. The information they give may not be consistent with their claims, either education mismatches with grammar etc.

They often have impressive titles. I have been contacted by Generals (military – and General seems to be the fave designation, in my experience. Doctors, scientists, diamond agents stuck in Nairobi or Kenya, or Uganda.

Scummers often portray themselves as younger and target women in their fifties and sixties, whom they see as richer and more vulnerable.

Scummers often want you to meet them on a more personal site, such as messenger, a private site, or email and sometimes phone.

In my own experience they are always in another place such as Africa (Nigeria is especially popular), Australia, Asia etc. usually working there and setting up the scene for some tragedy to strike.

They may even send you gifts, though that never happened to me.

Christian sites are also especially vulnerable.

Eventually they make ask to send money or articles to you and have you send said items on. THIS IS ILLEGAL AND NEVER DO IT.

They may say they will send you money or other items of value but say they need your money to cover fees or taxes.

A favorite is to tell you their tools of trade, or their credit cards were stolen and if you would please send some money for immediate relief they will repay you.

THE VERY WORST OF THEM MAY TRY TO LURE YOU OVERSEAS OR AWAY FROM HOME.

Once they ask for money, and you do not respond quickly their pleas will become more desperate and persistent.

DO NOT EVER SHARE PHOTOS, ADDRESSES, OR PERSONAL INFORMATION. And remember if you have ‘location’ turned on your phone or computer they can find your exact location.

IF YOU HAVE ALREADY GIVEN INFORMATION OUT THAT PUTS YOU AT RISK, ESPECIALLY BANK INFORMATION, GET OVER ANY EMBARRASSMENT AND CONTACT YOUR BANK IMMEDIATELY.

The attempts to scam were amusing for me, and I once had two separate men I communicated with who both surprisingly were in the diamond industry, in Africa (I don’t remember where exactly now), who surprisingly suddenly were in difficult straits and needed my assistance in the form of money. I messaged both and said how horrible, and how amazing I knew 2 men in such a situation, and for both of them to send me their coordinates and I would send a helicopter to get them away.

In other situations when my loving suitor became distraught at his sudden financial situation I messaged to say I was certain he was the victim of thieves and scoundrels and that on his behalf I had already contacted the police with his information. So long sucker.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE – IN SPITE OF MOMENTS OF LEVITY IN THIS ARTICLE – BE SAFE. KEEP YOUR HEART AND WALLET SAFE. DO NOT LET LONELINESS OR DESIRE OR PERCEPTION OF LOVE AND ADORATION MAKE YOU VULNERABLE.

By the time Robert and Leah were settled in Ontario, and their son James was four years old, across the cold Atlantic Ocean, in South Hackney, in the County of Middlesex, a wee baby girl was born on February 14, 1884 at home.

Hackney, was a very poor area of east London in those days. Her father, Francis Frampton, and his wife Edith Davies Frampton, lived at 4 Poole Rd. South Hackney.

Her father registered her birth two months later on April 18, 1884. So far it is unknown whether Annie had any siblings.

What is evident is that she had a mother and father in 1884, and somehow, a mere four years later was living in Stratford, Ontario, Canada, in an orphanage known as The Annie MacPherson Home.

It would be seven decades before she knew her birth date, her parents’ names, and where she lived.

On December 14, 1944, when Annie was 60 yrs. old, her family obtained certification that Annie arrived at the Stratford Home in July 1888, and was reported to be 4 yrs. old at the time. * Please note that when Annie MacPherson died her Homes and records became the possession of Dr. Barnardo’s Homes Company.At the age of 60 Annie still had to wait 19 years to know who she was, and where she came from.

There was much speculation about who she was. As a four year old it was not possible to remember what short past she had.

One story was that she was found wandering the streets of London holding a Ladies white glove. Many years ago Annie related what she hoped was an accurate memory to one of her great-granddaughters: She said she thought she could remember her father’s body lying in the parlour. She thought she had brothers and that her mother Edith could keep the boys because they could work, but she could not look after a young girl.

*This may be pretty close to the truth. Many of the orphans at the time were given to orphanages because the remaining parent simply could not look after them. There were more than 100,000 orphans in London at that time.

Above is the Annie MacPherson Home at 51 Avon St. Stratford, Ontario, as it was when Annie arrived in 1888 and as it is today in 2016.

Other than the Census indication that Annie may have lived with a family named Willows, nothing is known of the 11 yr. period from the age of four to fifteen.

Life changed dramatically for the orphan and a boy who grew up without siblings on December 20, 1899, when the marriage took place between Annie Dorothy Frampton and James Henry White.

The service was conducted by Rev. J. McKay at the Annie MacPherson House, and was witnessed by Priscilla Pointer and Lottie Butcher. It is unknown if they were residents or employees of the Home.

I remember well the excitement of 1963 when Elsie White Gingerich, one of James’ and Annie’s daughters told me that finally they had been able to receive a notarized copy of Annie’s Birth Certificate. *as shown above

Annie was 79 yrs. old. Elsie went on and on about the marvel of spending your whole life not knowing the where, the who, the when of it all and then finally, finally, finding out.

On February 14, 1964 Annie Frampton White turned 80 years old. Over the years previously she had given herself a birthday of May 1883, and finally at the age of 80 years a proper family party was held, and the celebration was a mighty one.In 1965 Annie died, 25 years after her husband, leaving a large and wide spread family.

When things get hard, and life is dark, and hope seems gone forever, I just have to think about Annie, who had less than nothing, and lived to laugh and love, and be loved. And therein lays the hope for us.

James and Annie sometime before his death in 1940

And with life there is also death.

and life goes on… a travel document for James to travel to the United States on business in 1918

This is the story of a young girl, born in Hackney England in 1884. Four years later in July 1888 she was an orphan situated at ‘The Annie MacPherson Home”, in Stratford, Ontario,Canada. She was sixty years old before she knew for sure when she arrived at the Home. She was seventy-nine before she knew the date of her birth, the names of her mother and father, and her address in Hackney. She had assigned herself a birthday just to have something to celebrate. Her eightieth birthday was the only accurate birthday date, and that party was mighty. She died a year later. But there was great joy in her life as the following photos will show.

This is a peek at a wee book I have put together as a gift to my godmother for her 90th birthday this month. The booklet is about her grandmother, my great-grandmother. I will post it just a few chapters at a time.

I must say it was a surprisingly huge task considering its size, but research took months and I certainly have enough information to write ten books. But for now that information has been filed. I have had a few books printed and will present Elaine’s to her at her party.

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Chapter One Beginnings

This is the story of an incredible woman, without whose participation, none of us would exist today. She had a sad and hard beginning, one that might make us wonder how she could ever have had any degree of happiness.

But the good thing about life is that, regardless of hardship, pain, and loss, there is still joy to be had. Perhaps the loss makes the happiness sweeter.

Annie Dorothy Frampton had a beautiful, joyous smile. This will be evidenced in some photos you will see later. Her joy was her family.

The very thing she lived her early years without, became her greatest treasure, by her own making.

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Chapter 2Robert White 1832-1916

Before we tell Annie’s story we must start in Glasgow, Scotland in 1832, when Annie’s future father-in-law, Robert White was born. Little is known about his early years, though we know that on Saturday, the 17th day of April, 1858, in the town of Stratford England, 26 year old Robert enlisted in the 100 Regiment of Foot, Horse Guard. Less than a year later he mustered out of the Guard for a fee of twenty pounds at Shorncliffe England with a Good Conduct rating.

Robert White wearing his dress uniform

What happened to Robert between 1859 and 1871? By this time he had immigrated to Ontario, Canada, and a year later, at the age of 40, married 17 year old Leah Strickler in 1872.

Scots had been immigrating to Canada since the 17th century, and around the years that Robert White came to Ontario, 80,000 Scots entered Canada. From the time of his discharge from the Horse Guard, it was 21 years until the birth of his one and only child James.

Below is Robert’s death notice. At that time he lived in Paris and died on August 4th, 1916 at 11 pm in his 85th year. His funeral left the home of his son James White, West River St., Paris, Ontario, on Monday August 7th at 9:30 am for the GTR Depot following a service in the home of James. Interment was in the Mennonite Cemetery at Bright.

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Chapter 3 The Stricklers of Preston, Ontario

Let’s for a moment jump back even further in time and place to York Pennsylvania, USA in the year 1822. Specifically November 22, 1822.

Part of the Pennsylvania Dutch immigration, Reuben arrived in Ontario where he met and married Leah Witmer, who was the first of three wives. Leah and Reuben had nine children, one of whom, named after her mother, would grow up to marry Robert White many years later. Women died, often in childbirth and men remarried to have someone care for their children.

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Chapter 4Robert and Leah

Leah and Robert married in 1872. She was 17 yrs. and he was 40 yrs. old. They had no living children until James Henry White was born in 1880.

In reviewing the Canadian Census Records of the time, it appears that the age difference did bother Robert.

In 1871, Robert properly listed himself as 39 yrs. old. This was a year before he married his very young bride.

In 1881, ten years later Robert is listed as Presbyterian, Leah as Mennonite, James, the baby, as 6 months old. Robert’s age is recorded as 44 years old – short by 5 years.

In 1891, Robert lists his age as 49 years. He was really 59 at the time. So our many times ‘great’ grandfather only aged 10 years over 20 years.

Interestingly, Annie Frampton, in the same census (1891) is listed under the family of J. Willows, a 34 yr. old farmer from England, who had a number of children listed. (Is it possible this family took her in from the orphanage?) She is stated as 7 yrs. old.

****Next post is the story of the young Annie and then Annie, her husband James, and their life and legacy

Like this:

I look at a board on a wall in front of my writing desk. It is a point of inspiration and love.

Photos, notes, reminders.

The earliest photo is from the 1930’s. My great-grandmother (Orphan Annie) and my great-grandfather James who died in 1940.

A newspaper clipping and photo of my paternal grandparents 50th wedding anniversary in 1973. Photo of a dear cousin and her husband, both gone now much much too early. And my parents gone in 1980’s. A photocopy of my father’s army application filled out on a Friday the 13th in 1942 at the age of 17.

So many dead and gone. BUT interspersed throughout the board, the Living. Sons, grandsons, siblings, in-laws, and another dear cousin who is my mini me.

Life and lives. Memories made and being made. A wedding invitation for September 2017 of a dear nephew and his bride to be.

I love my wall. I love the reminders of all whose paths transverse mine.

My Gratitude Wall.

This is just the starting point. There are not enough walls to hold the photos of those who have gone, and those who live who warm my heart and spirit.

Wiki.answers.com goes a little further and says ‘Want refers to what you absolutely have to have and ‘need’ refers to something that you don’t really lust for – but you just need it.

Answers.yahoo.com says – DESIRE is when you want something you can’t have. WANT is when you don’t need it but you get it anyways.

I always thought that reaching a point where one says, ‘I want nothing’ was a sign of happiness, an expression of gratitude. I don’t think it means you have everything you could want, it just means that you are grateful and appreciative for what you have. I disagree with M-W that WANT means being needy or destitute and agree whole heartedly with the second part – To have or feel need.

There are many, perhaps too many, in this day of materialism who WANT, not because of need, unless you count the need to possess as much as possible.

I think there is a much more positive side to WANT. Because of want we set goals and move ourselves and society forward. Want is not always about self, but the accomplished goal is indeed personal. WANT is an acknowledgement and from there comes our plan, our goal.

This is a very narrow positive because wanting and not receiving affects us. So then what happens?

We can accept the ‘not having’, we can I suppose change the WANT, although if the wanting is part of our need it is not easy to give up. Some who WANT change nothing and live, I believe, half a life never being able to get past that thing and move on. These are the bitterest lives immersed in anger and every form of negativity.

There are special people out there who WANT and accept the not having and chose to live in joy.

This weekend a young man died. I only met him a couple of times but my sister was a friend. He was born on the other side of the world in a country where his mother had to hide him so he would not be killed. Eventually they came to live in Canada, where despite my occasional groans about politics and institution is an excellent place to live.

Here he was loved by many.
Every day he went out about the town in his electric wheelchair. Malls were one of his favorite spots to hang out where he cheered so many with his smile and laugh. He loved people and they in turn loved him.

In the summer he loved to go to a local park where he got out of his wheelchair and sat by the lake on a rock. Just like everyone else. He had wants and was never embittered by them. He had joy for others and his want was a dream that could not be allowed on this plane of life.

It was just a few days ago when he spoke, as well as he could speak, and he told her that when he got to heaven someday he would be able to walk, would be able to run and jump. And his belief gave him joy.

He never resented others for what they had, he was just happy for them.

He died, this man loved by so many, somehow falling or rolling from the rock into that lake and drowning. And as my sister spoke of him yesterday she softly said, ‘He just wanted to be normal.’

And for a time I thought of WANT and the people whose lives are ruined by it and I thought of people like this man who in the ‘not having’ enriched everyone else’s life. And I blushed through my tears as I drove home, ashamed that my Wants have at times been negatively flavored and I found a gratitude and overwhelming joy at what I do have, and found myself wondering what I can do to enrich other lives.

You see I met this man perhaps twice and if this is the impact he had on me you have some idea of others and the value of their tears.

For those of you who may wonder what each Friday’s FITFS series is about, I will catch you up. It’s all about heroes, specifically my heroes in the Blogosphere. People I admire, have a blogging relationship with, people I want to emulate in some way (or in every way). People I learn from.

You know that corny line in the movie with Jack Nicholson and Helen Hunt, As Good as it Gets? – “You make me want to be a better man?” Well, my Following in the FootSteps heroes enrich my life and by their very example make me want to be a better person.

And so it is with Georgette Sullins where this multilingual wife, mother, daughter, and grandmother takes us along on her journey of memories, life lessons, and new things discovered. We get to arm chair it with this well travelled southern lady. On her very first blog in Sept. 6, 2010 she started us off with memories of OaxacaMexico.

As a teacher for over 30+ years Georgette continues to teach us in the most delicious way. Her entertainment value is first but oh my there are wonderful things to learn from all over the world. I love how she did an end of the year review and in December 2011, I think it was, she gave us a recipe for mulled wine, that I had been searching for since 1985. The exact recipe!

Georgette’s blog has universal appeal, I believe – and I say universal because should there be an intelligent life form in space I am sure they will also be reading her.

Do I have a favorite blog? Can’t say I do because as soon as I read one, it becomes the fave.

Now just what would I like to emulate about Georgette?

Certainly her ability to place us along side her as we travel, observe and learn. Becoming part of her reality. It’s a nice place to be. In her company. Could not ask for better! And, her enthusiasm for life, her joy and her faith! Oh! and her humour and wisdom. Oh! and of course her appreciation for me which makes me want to do the same for others.

Please do drop by, say hi, and leave a comment or two.

*How do I choose my heroes? Well, in the main it is they who choose me. I cannot choose in order of importance as they are all important so I started first with those whom I have the closest relationship through comments on my blog and those who subscribe to Bridgesburning. I have a long way to go because I have been very blessed by these most wonderful people. And if I can ever truly emulate them it will be by inspiring others.

When The Beatles first sang this song in 1967 I was young enough that 35 seemed very old and the thought of ever turning 64 seemed pretty much impossible. I just didn’t give it much thought. Well sixty-four now passed me by.

I’ve been musing a lot lately; thinking, considering, evaluating, contemplating. Probably because I am about to enter my sixty-fifth year and it is a new frontier. Neither of my folks reached this age and I am the oldest of my siblings and most of my cousins. I know, I know. Many of you are saying 65 is not old and I keep hearing things like, ‘sixty is the new forty.’ Well, I remember forty and no it isn’t quite. The spirit is willing, and there are many things I do that make me feel pretty good, pretty healthy, pretty young, but the song I most identify with is Toby Keith’s ‘As Good As I Once Was’.

‘I ain’t as good as I once was

But I’m as good once as I ever was.’

The most interesting thing to have happened this past week in talking to my friends/family about my party on Friday is that I don’t want any gifts because….and this is the most exciting part…I suddenly realized that there is nothing on this earth that I need or want.

This doesn’t mean that I have everything – it means I am happy, content and satisfied.

I went outside for my usual evening outing to look at the sky last night and on spying the first star I began my little ‘Star light, Star bright, grant the wish I wish tonight’ and stopped just as I started with the realization that I do not have anything to wish for. And then the epiphany – I am happier right now than I have ever been in my life. The knowledge came to me quite suddenly and without much ado – it just sort of is.

I still have mountains to climb, dreams to fulfill, stories to create, but I also have happiness, contentment, and gratitude.

I guess as I finish writing this I realize there is a wish I will make on tonight’s star, and that is that every one of you will find this same happiness.

I am fortunate to have people who love me – in spite of myself (I have marveled at that before) and if I have one particular goal this year it will be to let all of them know how much they mean to me.

Who knew? I do know that this is already the best birthday of my life.

My ever entertaining 3 year old G2 is telling all who will listen he is going to marry Mommy. To prepare for said nuptuals he is brushing his teeth at least three times a day, more if he could get away with it. Today he asked for his shaving kit, a child’s Christmas toy he received complete with cream, razor, mirror and brush and proceeded to spruce himself up. The same goes for hair combing.

He adores his Mom, her blue eyes, long blonde hair..she is perfect. Previous to this his affections were reserved for Ariel the Mermaid and then Rapunsel all of whom have long hair.

He first mentioned his intent yesterday and I replied that it was a wonderful idea. This morning he mentioned it again, watching me closely for my reaction. Again I told him that was wonderful. Then he said, “I told my Daddy and Daddy said ‘no’ that Mommy is his. But I am going to marry her.” He is pleased that Daddy seems on board with the idea now.

In addition it has become a training tool in matters so far unsuccessful. He has developed an attachment to his soother lately. Today Daddy told him to put it away and when he firmly replied, “No”, Daddy said he didn’t think Mommy would want to marry anyone with a soother.

“Fine,” he said and promptly deposited it in the kitchen. Now if we can just use this to ensure number 2 is properly looked after.

I remember both my sons at the same age deciding they were going to marry Mommy. Then at about 8 they felt it necessary to assure me that,”Mommy, I will live with you forever.” And that is exactly where G1 is at that exact age.

These slightly overcast hot humid July mornings sometimes serve up, in addition to a light sprinkling of temporary rain, a particular memory from a land far away, a time long ago. Actually a time long ago not so much on the land faraway, except it does seem in my mind to have been a million miles away. A land distanced by time I guess.

We were going on vacation to a cottage probably somewhere in the Haliburton or Muskoka region of Ontario where lakes meet forest meet city dudes for a limited week or two each year. It had to have been the late fifties, a time before, air conditioning, seat belts, road service and car radios that could receive signals outside a city limits.

Cars broke down all the time, or at least threatened to, but were easily fixed with a patch, hot air, or a good smack along it’s frame. I remember one trip where the engine kept overheating and the only solution was to drive with the heat blowing on max on the hottest day of the year.

There were seven of us that year, two parents and five kids and I cannot remember what kind of car it was but it easily accommodated four or five wee bodies. I’m thinking we were between twelve and six years old. I was the oldest and considered myself a diva of sorts without knowing that word existed, and for sure possessed that false prepubescent sophistication where really, nothing associated with family was good enough for this princess and Mom and Dad became Mother and Father and really, what kind of car we drove and where we went was below my level of interest..sigh.

I don’t remember much about the cottage except it must have had walls, enough bedrooms and probably and indoor loo as that is one memory that would have caught my royal attention.

One day on the beach, no, not white sand, probably a stony beach with large rocks lining the shore, I found myself talking to a boy. There was none of the discomfort or awkwardness that preteens often start to feel, just nice pleasant conversation. It turned out that he lived very close to my house and knew my brother. Then the conversation took a turn that screamed, ‘hormones at work here!’ but of course I would not recognize that message for a few years.

“How old are you?” he asked.

Not sure what to say here as all of a sudden it occurred to me that I did not want him to know I was just a silly kid (it seems the diva devil flees in the face of true love). After a pause I countered brilliantly with, “How old are you?” feeling much like Baby must have felt when she uttered the words, “I carried a watermelon.”

“Fifteen,” he replied, head down, hands in his pockets and kicking dirt with his right foot.
Whew, I knew it was safe to lie since he obviously was not fifteen.

“Well I’m fourteen,” and he nodded. He said that his family was going home the next day, (and mine still had a week to go), and asked if he could call me for a date sometime.

Our week passed and I soon forgot about the encounter but a few days after returning home I got a phone call. Now phone calls back then were rare. No one actually phoned unless there was a specific purpose to said call. And there were party lines so every conversation could be heard by most of the neighborhood.

Anyway, the call came on a Saturday morning and he asked if I could go to the matinee that afternoon with him?
I asked my Mom, and explained who this fellow was, and my brother corroborated his decent character, and Mom said yes.

I was a bit in awe at the potential of a first date but was pretty cool and calm about it, while my mother made me put on an actual dress and comb my hair (I was pretty much a tomboy like Trixie Belden then so gave no thought to ‘dressing up.’

Then I waited. And waited. And waited. I was not particularly upset, just a little confused maybe but I had not invested any hopes and dreams in this guy so it was no biggie, although looking back; it probably was for my mother.

Later that day a hurried whispered call came from my suitor who apologized for not showing up because his Mom had gotten mad at him and grounded him. He sounded totally humiliated and embarrassed.
“No problem,” said I, quite sincerely and meaning it. And then I promptly forgot about it, except every now and then on a hot humid overcast, July morning, my mind does that little time travel thing, where I find myself standing on a stony beach.

*The ‘Actually’ series are stories of childhood and family and memories.